Random Ideas
by UberCats
Summary: Plot bunnies to fill you up!


Dark/Evil Harry. Details can be worked out later.

Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, Gryffindor Head Boy, was standing in front of an empty wall. He muttered to himself "_I need a place where I can manipulate time and space… I need a place where I can manipulate time and space… I need a place where I can manipulate time and space…"_. God, I hope this works, he thought. As he opened his eyes, he saw an unimpressive black doo. "Hm…" he thought. "Ah well, will have to do." He pulled out a galleon from his pocket, signaling the next meeting of the DA. Steeling himself for what he had to do, he walked through the door. It was white inside. Simply white. He changed the landscape with his mind, assembling it into a typical classroom format.

He sat down at the front, as various members of the DA filed in. The final one to emerge was Hermione. She was definitely not looking normal. Dressed in all black, flowing robes, with a hood bunched around her neck, she strode up to Harry. Harry muttered "Erm…hi?" Hermione replied by walking up to him, socking him right in the jaw, and waving her wand over him. He floated over to the Professor's office.

Chaos broke out as various people asked her what she was doing, why she was doing, damn those robes look tight on you… It went silent. Hermione walked up to Ron, who had been calmly sitting the whole time, and grabbed him by the ear and dragged him into the office. She slammed the door shut. It was silent in the room. Moments later, they heard screaming, arguing, a muffled bang, then silence. Low voices started to murmur. About 5 minutes later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione strode out. Harry sported a nasty bruise to his jaw, Ron had a cut on his forehead, Hermione was bruised on the cheekbone, and all three of them had an insane look in their eye. Harry began: "I'm sure you're wondering what just happened. I would love to explain, but Hermione here could probably do it better." Hermione grinned like a feral wolf, and began to speak.

IIIII

It was the end of June, time for Hogwarts graduations. Nearly everyone, student, faculty, and parents had gathered into the expanded Great Hall, bustling with noise. Every few people, there was a student wearing jet-black robes, with an identical pin on their chest, and a hood bunched up around their neck. They were not talking. They were not smiling. They were not even moving. They were staring daggers into one man.

IIIII

Albus Dumbledore worriedly glanced over this crop of students. Perhaps his favorite and least favorite student were all bundled together in one room. He glanced at the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws. The houses were as tightly knit as Hogwarts has ever seen, since the DA began regular meeting again. However, several students were giving him the cold look. He glanced around, and most of the students, bar the Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws were chatting away, unbeknownst to the odd behavior of their classmates. His eyes flicked to each one of the looks, the coldest of all coming from Hermione Granger. He gave her his grandfatherly, warm, look, and told her with his eyes that he was proud. She stared. She stared with ice cold eyes, dark brown eyes shooting daggers, eyebrows thinly drawn above his eyes. He looked around for Mr. Potter. After several glanced among the crowd, he assumed that Harry had gone to see natures call. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed. No Harry. Oh yes, he was worried.

IIIII

Professor McGonnagall stared at the group of graduating students before clearing her throat and casting the Sonorus charm. She stood up, and said "Parents, Students, and Faculty. It is time, once again, to present this year's graduating class!" She smiled at them all, and walked over to the middle of the hall. "I will call your name, and you will come up to receive your diploma. Hannah Abbot!" A tall, long haired Hufflepuff stood up. She was one of the only ones dressed in a black cloak. She stalked up to the stadium, smiled warmly at Professor McGonnagall, stared menacingly at Dumbledore, and walked back to her seat. Tentative, short applause followed. Mcgonnagall grew worried. "This is bad," she thought as she went on to the next name.

II 2 hours pass II

"Harry Potter!" McGonnagall's tired voice called. When no one stood up, she enunciated clearly and stared at the Gryffindor Table. "Harry Potter!" A cold voice rang through the hall. All movement and sound ceased. The voice began. "Harry Potter is no more. All that remains is this." A set of ruffled, cut up Gryffindor robes appeared at the base of the Head Table. Some students and most parents screamed. Many stood up. Everyone in black stayed seated, their gazes not leaving Dumbledore. The voice continued. "Harry Potter fought nobly, but was outmaneuvered by one man. One man, who is in this room. Many of you know who it is."

Most heads swiveled towards the adults, scanning the head table and some parents. Even the Slytherins had no idea who this person was. "What you asked, is what you got, old man." A dismembered head, along with a broken locket, a shattered ring, a ripped diary, a blood-covered snake, a shattered cup, and a burnt tiara sat upon the robes now.

The head was almost pure white, dark red eyes leading down to a snakelike nose, down to a mouth opened into its final scream, leading down to a severed neck, dried blood caked around it.

"My friends know what to do. And I leave you with a final message. The game is over, the snitch is caught…" With this word, every student wearing black pulled up their hood, stood up, and pulled wands from various pockets. They calmly walked to the middle of the room, as if it was practiced. Several teachers discreetly drew their wand. Dumbledore quietly sent a Disillusioned Patronus outside. The voice appeared one last time. "But, the other team calls a penalty." Several students screamed, as hole was blown into the door, revealing one final cloak, a deep, green velvet. He calmly waved his wand, and you could hear one sound. The sound of a woman's scream, forever imbedded into the mind of the man. Forever to haunt him. Suddenly, everything exploded into action.

The figures wearing cloaks began to fire spells indiscriminately at the faculty, and most of Slytherin house. The one wearing red simply laughed, as the rest of the students screamed and attempted to run, but were battered down by the red. An all out duel began. The figures in black were firing multicolored curses, all lethal. There were sickly yellow spells, orange curses, green hexes, red charms, fired all around. The parents were either struggling to run or attempting to fire spells at the figures dressed in black. They were casting with impossible accuracy, dodging with inhuman speed, and it was with pure luck that most teachers survived the first volley. By the time the second volley flew, over fifty people were on the ground, and nearly all of the Order of the Phoenix had come into Hogwarts. It was a full out battle. Almost all of the figures were still standing in the middle, and the red figure stood up, and casually dodged a red spell with a quick spin to the side, ducked and rolled under 4 different spells, and casually tossed a strong Protego over his shoulder. He spoke in familiar tones. "Well, it's been nice meeting you here, but we really ought to go." Most figures nodded imperceptibly, and they all spun on their heel and disappeared. The red one said one thing before he left. "Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind. He disappeared in a flash of dark light.

One hundred miles away, a bunch of laughing figures appeared inside a large mansion. The red one quieted everyone down. He lowered his hood, to reveal sparkling green eyes and raven colored hair. "I'd like to thank Hermione Granger for helping create all these costumes." One of the figures lowered her hood, revealing bushy brown hair and chocolate eyes. She grinned. "I'd also like to thank Dumbledore, for being a complete idiot and ruining most of my life!" He was the only one to laugh. "Anyway, we will plan our next strike beginning Saturday, so you have about half a week to get your affairs in order, you know where the owls are, and your rooms. Good luck." Most of them strode into different directions, in pairs and trios, lowering their hoods. A pair of Indian twins, three red-heads, a blonde with a dreamy expression, their heads popped out of a dark cloaked head. A brown haired girl, along with a black haired teen and a tall, red-head walked over to the kitchen. They began to talk in earnest, and if one had been listening to conversation, he would have heard the words Diagon Alley muttered.

A scene of destruction opened into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. The great hall was overturned, with teenagers, adults, and teachers alike lying on the ground, moaning in pain. A few individuals scurried about, casting various spells on the seriously wounded. Albus Dumbledore sat in his chair, and shakily picked up his wand. He sobbed, and stood up. Wordlessly, he conjured several, clean, squeaky hospital beds in the hallway. Deliriously, he stumbled towards his office. "I need a drink," he thought.


End file.
